


Missing Something I Can't Seem To Define

by subtropicalStenella



Series: 5 for 500 [5]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Chatlogs, First Love, First Meeting, M/M, Meet-Cute, just guys being dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 06:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12163197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtropicalStenella/pseuds/subtropicalStenella
Summary: 5 for 500 Prompt for PropheticFire: How Mids and Gunner Met (And Raised Hell)





	Missing Something I Can't Seem To Define

**Author's Note:**

  * For [propheticfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/propheticfire/gifts).



**FLIGHTSIM 05-11A-788Y4-327C “GROUND BASE RECLAMATION 6” COMMUNICATIONS LOG**

 

**_***Z-3472, Z-1409, Z-1111, Z-0864, Z-7621, Z-9041, Z-7622, Z-6673, Z-4545, Z-6110 Eliminated***_ **

**FC-6345: Oh for** **_shit’s sake._ **

**FC-6345: Jenth and Senth down**

**FC-6365: Repeat, Jenth and Senth Wings down!**

**FC-6345: Vev, Osk, reroute to reinforce Hangar 7!**

CP-6721: Rerouting Vev, sir.

CP-2509: Rerouting Osk, sir.

CP-1562: Wait what happened to Enth?

CP-7024: We're fine, it's Krenth.

CP-2228: Krenth1 here, aces. 1 through 5 watching Hangar 2 with our thumbs up our asses.

**FC-6345:** **_Jenth_ ** **and** **_Senth,_ ** **dammit.**

**FC-6345: Fucking aurebesh callsigns.**

CP-3320: Yeah whose bright idea was that?

CP-1562: Three guesses and the first two don't count. 

 

**_***Z-5553, Z-3100 Eliminated***_ **

 

**FC-6345:** **_Shut it, you two._ **

CP-6721: Coming up on Hangar 7.

CP-2509: On your point 4, Vev!

**FC-6345: Aurek, Besh, Dorn, what's your status** ? 

CP-5566: Aurek1 here. Not good!

CP-5566: We lost the east side! 

CP-5566: They're inside the hangar!

CP-5566: Can’t get a clear shot!

**FC-6345** :  **_Fuck!_ **

CP-7212: Dorn1 here, about to lose the south too!

CP-7212: We can't get close enough!

CP-0003:  _ Besh taking heavy fire! _

 

**_***Z-1165, Z-4141, Z-8740, Z-7778, Z-2121 Eliminated***_ **

 

CP-0003 _ : They got the turrets!  _

CP-0003 _ : Repeat! Enemy controls Hangar 7 Turrets! _

**FC-6345:** **_Vev, Osk move your asses!_ **

**FC-6345:** **_Krenth1, 2, 4 move to reinforce Hangar 7!_ **

CP-2228: Yessir!

 

**_***Audio Transmission From Aurek, Besh, Dorn, Jenth, Senth, Krenth Lost Due To Interference From An Explosion***_ **

 

**FC-6345:** **_What the fuck was that?!_ **

**FC-6345:** **_Sound off!_ **

CP-2228: Uh. 

CP-2228: That would be us not having to worry about Hangar 7 anymore, sir.

**FC-6345: What?**

CP-0003: He's… mostly right? 

CP-0003: I mean

CP-0003: There is no longer a Hangar 7 to worry about.

**FC-6345:** **_What?!_ **

CP-1562:  _ Ha!  _ CC voicecrack!

**FC-6345: Shut up dickface!**

**FC-6345: What do you mean “There is no longer a Hangar 7”?**

**FC-6345: Someone get me a visual!**

CP-0003: I mean it got blown up to fuck and back.

**FC-6345:** **_How?!_ **

**FC-6345** **_: No one could get close!_ **

CP-2509: Looks like… ground troops?

**FC-6345: We don't** **_have_ ** **ground troops in this sim!**

CP-1409: We do now!

**FC-6345: Wh--**

**FC-6345: You** **_crashed!_ **

**FC-6345: How are you even still online?!**

CP-1409: Yeah no I locked course a tank near Hangar 7 and bailed out. 

CP-1409: Crashed on purpose.

CP-9041: Oh sick me too man! 

CP-1409: _Nice!_

CP-9041: Anyway we met up and used the fuel cells in the hangar to blow up the hangar.

CP-1409: Half the hangar.

CP-9041: Right, cos the other half--

**FC-6345: Hang on 1409** **9041** ** _\--_**

CP-1409:  _ Whoa! _

CP-1409, 9041: DUUUU--

 

**_***Audio Transmission From Jenth, Senth, Temporarily Overloaded Due To Excessive Input***_ **

 

**FC-6345:** **_\--hut the fuck up and get in a fuckdamn Zee!_ **

 

**_***Audio Transmission From Aurek, Besh, Dorn, Jenth, Senth, Krenth, Vev, Osk, Trill Lost Due To Interference From A Series Of Explosions***_ **

 

CP-9041: Uh… 

CP-9041: About that.

CP-1409: We kinda. 

CP-1409: Can't?

CP-9041: Cos we used it to blow the hangar.

**FC-6345: …**

**FC-6345: Get in a** **_different_ ** **Zee.**

CP-1409: Yeah… 

CP-1409 _ : About that _ ...

**FC-6345: There are approximately** **_thirty_ ** **Z-95s around that hangar!**

CP-9041: Apparently there was a chain reaction from the hangar explosion.

CP-1409: And now there are approximately zero Z-95s around that hangar.

**FC-6345: I…**

**FC-6345: I don't even know how to respond to that.**

CP-3080: Sir, Forn1 here, we've got incoming on Hangar 4

CP-3080: Counting five tanks and we're running short on the heavy artillery.

CP-0008: I thought Dorn was on 7?

**FC-6345: They** **_are_ **

**FC-6345:** **That was** ** _Forn_** **and--**

 

**_click_ **

 

Flight Commander 6345 stands at attention and tries not to flinch when Ir Wun turns the recording off. It's not like he hadn't had ample warning, the scientist’s pale, almost boneless hand had begun its slow, graceful journey towards the holorecorder before Aytee had even finished calling for help. 

 

“You believe this is sufficient evidence that 1409 and 9041 should be transferred into the same Flight?” Ir Wun asks slowly, with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“Yes, sir. It would greatly benefit morale and unit efficiency. Clearly they are literal detonite together.”

 

And a damned menace apart. The simulation ended and each of them had thrown their helmets off to sprint around the massive training hall, shouting the other’s number at the top of their lungs until they'd finally collided and toppled to the ground in a pile of skinny limbs and more shouting.

Ir Wun blinks slowly, like he knows something is being hidden from him. 6345 thinks very, very hard about the way the collar of his blacks rubs painfully against the pimple on the back of his neck, the dull, bone-deep growth-ache in his thighs and upper arms, near the joints. Kaminoans aren't  _ supposed  _ to be able to read minds, but he wasn't going to risk his face giving away the memory of 9041 and 1409  _ crying _ when the simulation group got divvied back up into squads. 

It was a big deal, finding your wingmen, the guys you'd fly-or-die for. Flights weren't like trooper squads. Flinging several tons of durasteel, heavy cannons and radioactive fuel through the sucking vacuum of space, burning atmo, empty air… You couldn't just “learn to work around” someone’s quirks, because more often than not, you got  _ one  _ mistake. One mistimed turn in a dogfight, one badly aimed bolt, one bad trajectory calculation, and then someone died. Sometimes lots of people died. You had to find the ones you were born to fly with, fast, and hang onto them.

Sometimes it was the ones assigned to you, sometimes you just kept getting randomized together, sometimes you just  _ knew.  _ 1409 and 9041  _ knew.  _ He kinda envied them for it, a little.

Ir Wun sighs neutrally. 

 

“Very well.”


End file.
